Flight of the Butterfly
by forensicsfan
Summary: The flight of the butterfly can be erratic, and though it looks delicate, it is purposeful and strong having fought hard to overcome it's bounds and fly to freedom. Written from Sara's POV, perhaps a bit angsty for those who favor GSR, may be NSR eventual
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I didn't create them, and I don't profit from them; however, as always, I would love to buy George and Jorja a cup of coffee and maybe even a scone.

**Author's Note:** This originally was intended to be a collaboration with another writer, but life circumstance have just not worked out to do that...so I've decided to plunge ahead and maybe take this in a different direction than it was originally intended. It's a work in progress and I hope it doesn't turn into an epic or you all might be waiting quite a while between chapters.

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They say that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, but what they don't tell you is that often times that journey is spent wandering in circles around the same scenery that you hope will miraculously change before your eyes. I guess my life is a little like that. Growing up I spent many a night wishing that my dad didn't beat up my mom, until one night that wish came true in a way that I'd never imagined and she ended up going to prison for murdering him. That's when I began another journey; a journey that eventually led to becoming a CSI so that I could speak out for justice for women like my mother; and even men like my father, who couldn't or wouldn't speak for themselves. I've learned to collect and analyze evidence because in many ways it's easier than collecting and analyzing people. 

Although, no one ever called me a quitter, or told me that I didn't try.

Case in point is my supervisor Gil Grissom. I met him years ago when I was an undergrad at Harvard and he was a guest lecturer, but he really doesn't remember that. What he does remember is meeting me again when he was doing a seminar, the kind that I needed for continuing education requirements, when I was working as a CSI in San Francisco. I was intrigued; not just because I'd met him before, but because the man is brilliant. I've always considered myself a science nerd, but Grissom makes that part of me feel so alive and talking with him over coffee during a few of the breaks that week I felt as if we had a connection that I'd never really had with anyone before.

Although, that's not really when I'd say I fell in love with him, or developed feelings for him rather. Love is such a serious word, and I'm not sure I'll ever really know what it means.

I got a phone call out of the blue in what I've now come to know as being in a very Grissomesque manner about six years ago. He wanted me to come out to Vegas to investigate someone on his nightshift; someone that had left a rookie alone at a crime scene on her first night and she ended up being killed. I never left Vegas, and that CSI that I came to investigate and I have become good friends. You'd never find a more loyal friend than Warrick Brown and I know that he takes the death of Holly Gribbs with him wherever he goes, and because of that, I know he has my back every time we're working a crime scene. Warrick is more of a big brother than my brother ever was.

I think I started to fall for Grissom after I'd been in Vegas for a couple of years. I'd been knocking myself out, pulling triple shifts to prove to him how good of a CSI I was. He kept telling me that I needed to find an outside interest. I was just trying to emulate him and I didn't see him having any outside interests; even his insects were part of his job, or at least I used to think that.

I'm not so sure anymore.

At first I thought he just saw me as a brilliant student, he told me that I was bright and that I had great instincts as an investigator. Then he called me beautiful and that completely threw me for a loop. My dad, he called me the smart one, but he really never called me beautiful. So when a man that I idolize calls me beautiful, what am I suppose to think? Even Warrick has picked up on something and he used to find every opportunity to tease me about it, not in an overt manner, but I know what those little jabs are designed to do. Although lately, Warrick's more inclined to try and set me up with one of his buddies than to tease me about Grissom. Maybe it's because Warrick decided to elope with his girlfriend Tina one night and his perspective on things is a little different now or maybe it's because he sees something I don't and wants to help direct my focus elsewhere.

Nick on the other hand has never acknowledged whatever it is between Grissom and I other than our professional relationship. Maybe he's seen clearly what it's taken me years to figure out. Even if Grissom has feelings for me; and unfortunately I know that he _does_ have feelings for me, I think that's what makes this whole thing so much harder, I know the man is never going to act on them. Nick has been trying to set me up on blind dates for a long time perhaps in hopes that I'll finally pick up on that.

The thing is, no matter how irrational it is, I have feelings for someone that is never going to reciprocate them, is possibly incapable of reciprocating them, and I have to find a way to move on. In my mind, Gil Grissom is the perfect man for me, but maybe what I see as being perfect is just insurance against finding true love, finding someone that's not afraid to love me. Because I think deep down, I'm more afraid of what would happen if he _did_ act on his feelings.

"You get a hit?" A slow easy drawl breaks through my thoughts and I nearly jump out of my skin as I glance up and notice Nick looking at me quizzically. All of us, that is the former nightshift crew, now the restored nightshift crew, have been working this case that is horrific and I've been running prints we picked up at the scene through A.F.I.S. for what seems like hours.

I let out a tired sigh and shake my head. "Nothing yet, but it's still searching. The first three were just partials, but the other four are more complete...maybe we'll get something." I'm not sure I look all that convincing.

Nick has concerned etched on his face. "When was the last time you took a break?" Ever since he was buried alive, he's made it his own personal mission to make sure that in the midst of even the most daunting cases that we get a break in now and then so we stay sharp. Of course I'm likely to remind him that if we'd done that when he was missing, that we might have been too late. I think it's just the way we tell each other we care without coming out and saying it.

I smile at him, I really am glad that we found him in time, I'm not sure we would have all been the same if things hadn't turned out the way they did. "I promise I'll get some coffee just as soon as this is done." As I gesture towards the computer screen, Nick laughs.

"Sara, you and I both know that this could take hours." He smirked and then whispered conspiratorially. "Besides, my mom sent a couple of pecan pies FedEx and they're in the break room...if we don't hurry Greg might polish them both off while he's waiting for his Blue Hawaiian to brew."

We both know that Greg wouldn't dare do something like that, but the idea that Nick's mom overnighted homemade pie is enough to get me out of my chair. By the time we get to the break room, the atmosphere is more like a party; a welcome respite from the tension of the case we've been working on.

Catherine is sitting on the couch with her feet up savoring every bite of her slice of pie and Warrick is sitting across from her making noises that I'm sure in another context might be considered obscene, which makes me anxious to taste this pie.

"Nick, this is the best pie I've ever had." Greg remarks with an expression that is pure delight.

It seems the only one missing from this impromptu gathering is Grissom, and for some reason I feel a bit of a pang. A pang that is replaced with a nervous flutter as the man in question walks into the room looking at us all as if we've gone mad.

"What happened to the case?" Grissom doesn't seem to register that we're all eating pie.

"Nick's mom sent pie." Greg lifts up his plate in explanation.

All of us freeze momentarily.

Grissom glances around and then quirks a single eyebrow before looking at Nick over the rim of his glasses. "What kind of pie?"

Nick grins. "Pecan, Gris. She makes the best."

He looks as if he's considering it for just a moment.

I can't help but interject, this pie really is amazing and I'm already feeling more relaxed from this little break and I'm not about to give it up just yet. "Everyone needs a break now and then."

Surprise flickers across Grissom's face for just a minute and then he flashes a boyish half smile in my direction. "You're right, Sara."

For some reason, in that moment, I can see something with crystal clarity that I never could have imagined would happen in the middle of something as ordinary as eating pecan pie. I'm hanging onto these feelings for Grissom because I'm stubborn and I want to win; not because I really want him. I'm tired; tired of hanging on, and it's in that moment that I decide that _I_ need a break from _him_.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, so when I said that I needed a break from Grissom, three hours wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.

Shift wrapped up shortly after that impromptu pecan pie break and since about all we had at that point on our case was a long wait until the lab tests results were done Grissom sent us home rather than have Ecklie breathing down his neck for letting us all work overtime by standing outside the DNA or trace labs.

I had actually managed to take the first step in my plan of moving on and decided that since it seemed that since the emotionally unavailable men I tended to be attracted to weren't going to rush right out and pamper me; I might as well pamper myself. I had ten hours until I was supposed to be back at work so I thought a nice bubble bath and a glass of South African Pinotage would be just the thing to relax me before I tried to get some sleep and since it was quite likely that the next shift just might turn into a double, sleep was something that I really needed.

I had just sunk down into the bubbles, luxuriating in the feeling of the warm water relaxing my muscles and I was reaching for the glass of wine when I heard my phone ring. Now, very few people outside of the lab, the phone company and my landlord even know my home phone number so I decided that my answering machine could pick up the call. The caller hung up as soon as the message clicked on.

I closed my eyes and surmised that it must have been a wrong number; something that was much more frequent occurrence when I first moved to Vegas; I swear the people that had my number before me owed a hell of a lot of people quite a bit of money.

The taste of the wine was wonderful and I smiled as I realized that I'd waited a long time to share that bottle of wine with someone special when I should have saved it for a moment just like this one. I am worth it dammit and regardless of the fact that Gil Grissom can't seem to see that I'm not going to let it control me anymore. Before I can even take another sip of the wine, the phone rings again; and once again, the caller hangs up just as the machine picks up. I don't know whether to be annoyed that someone can't check the number before they dialed or if I should just get up and make sure they know that I signed up for the 'do not call' list and they'd better take me off theirs.

By the third time the phone rings, I realize that I'm not going to get to enjoy this bath until I find out who the hell keeps interrupting my attempt at being an emotionally Grissom free woman. And as I pull myself out of the tub and wrap my robe around my body, the machine clicks on and they hang up again.

I'm pissed by this point. I just want to finish my bubble bath in peace, drink my damn glass of wine and get a few hours of sleep.

I'm standing next to the phone the fourth time it rings and it's all I can do to not growl into the phone as I notice the caller ID. "Grissom, what's up?" I knew that if he was calling my home number that he'd probably already tried my cell phone several times; or he'd suddenly had a stroke of courage and was about to declare his undying love for me.

There's a good reason that I tend to be pessimistic about my love life, or the lack thereof.

"We've got a second crime scene and you need to meet Brass out in Henderson." Grissom didn't even seem to register in his tone that he was the one that had insisted we all go home and get some rest.

"I'm in the middle of a bubble bath." I didn't try and hide my annoyance, despite the fact that he was implying that we might just have a serial killer on our hands. And if he jumped to conclusions about my current state of dress, well that would serve him right for not taking that risk. In my mind it was officially too late and I was going to stand my ground and go back and enjoy that bubble bath, the rest of the bottle of wine and copious amounts of sleep before I stepped foot back inside the lab.

"And you need to pick up Nick on the way; apparently, he's got a flat." Grissom seemed completely unphased by my statement. There is just something unnerving about Gil Grissom at times that I swear had to have been the catalyst for many loops on that downward spiral called 'obsessed with Grissom' and I'm sure that it's going to take all of my willpower to escape the emotional vortex that seems to keep trying to pull me back in.

"Fine." I'm going to get back to that bubble bath eventually; I'll probably need it if this crime scene is anything like the one that we'd initially investigated that had brought all hands on deck in the first place. As much as I'd like to stay mad at Grissom, this is my job; and I love my job even more than I love bubble baths. I can't blame him for calling me in when everyone else is being called in too.

Once I'd gotten a little more information from him about exactly _where_ in Henderson I was supposed to meet Brass I hung up the phone and started to clean up so that I would actually be in the proper state of dress to work a crime scene and I wouldn't have to clean a ring of soap scum from tub before I tried this again.

I'm nearly dressed, the tub is draining and I'm sadly recorking the wine when I hear my cell phone ring. One glance at the caller ID and a smile steals over my face; if Nick is calling me, I'm sure he's just as irritated as I am about having his few hours of off time interrupted, especially since he'd worked a few hours before this whole thing got started. "Nicky."

"Hey, Sar." Nick's drawl is thick and he is obviously trying to force himself awake enough to work. "Grissom said he'd get you to pick me up...my Denali blew out a tire on the way home...someone in the motor pool forgot to put the spare back, so..."

"Yeah, I just need to finish getting dressed and I'll swing by and pick you up." Regardless of the reason that Nick needs a ride, I'm more than happy to pick him up, if for no other reason that to get my mind off the reason I was taking that bubble bath in the first place. If there is one thing that I can usually count on from Nick, it's his ability to make me smile no matter what else seems to be going on around us. He's one of my favorite people to work with too because he seems to be able to sense when I don't want to talk; even if he'll usually coax it out of me later over a plate of pancakes or a pizza and a six pack of beer.

There was a cocky, flirty tone in Nick's voice. "So what are you wearing _now_ then?" Even though Nick is a grown man, he is such a boy sometimes and despite the fact that a line like that out of most people might just earn them the glare of death; somehow Nick can just get away with it. He's one of those people that you just can't help but like no matter what he does and he knows it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I don't even miss a beat; we've had this banter going for years. There is a part of me that is thoroughly enjoying this and a part of me that wonders if Grissom was a little more like Nick if he would have taken the chance, and I think that if he was, he might have.

"Well, I know what I _wish_ you were wearing." Nick's voice even sounds dirty and I'm pretty damn sure that I know exactly what he's implying, but it's not like I'm going to take it seriously, or even that I believe he means it seriously.

Greg once told me that men think about sex all the time; not that this was a huge revelation to me; but it did get me thinking about whether any of my coworkers besides Grissom ever had the occasional fantasy about me. Ok I'm fairly certain that without a doubt all of the guys have, but it doesn't mean that any of them would ever cross that line and act on it. I mean, if Grissom who I know has feelings for me couldn't cross the line; the guys who just have platonic feelings for me would certainly never cross that line.

At least I don't think they would.


	3. Chapter 3

There are times that I wish that I'd chosen some other profession; that I'd used my interest in physics to help design cars or find a way to make airplanes more aerodynamic instead of using it to determine bullet trajectories and blood spatter patterns. Because then maybe I wouldn't have to walk into the kind of hell that I'd seen as a teen night after night. If I'd chosen another life I might be married by now to some nice stable guy who does taxes for a living and I could have a dog and maybe a little girl and join the PTA.

But then again, no one truly chooses to be a criminalist; being a criminalist chooses you.

This scene was another all hands on deck with even a few people from the day shift called in. I think Grissom must have said my name three times before I really noticed and as I glanced up from where I was studying the arc of the blood spatter on the wall and trying to break out of the reverie I'd been in I could tell that he was concerned.

Grissom's brows were knit together. "Sara, why don't you take a break?"

It wasn't really a question; it was more of a gentle order and I just simply nodded and left what I was doing and walked outside. It wasn't until I was standing out there gulping in fresh air that I realized that the odor of iron had been thick in the air and memories of my father's murder had been stirred up by a simple sight and smell memory. Suddenly, images of my mother looking completely horrified at what she'd done filtered through my mind and I wondered how she was doing in prison and if she ever really regretted ending her living hell by killing him; if she realized that despite the fact that he was an abusive bastard that I loved my father very much and I was angry with her for stealing him from me; for stealing herself and my brother away from me.

I don't think that I really realized that I was crying until I felt someone's hand on my shoulder and in an instant I felt completely mortified; not that I'd allowed myself to break down; hell I'd done that more times that I'd probably even admit to myself, but that had been outside of work, safe in the confines of my car or my apartment. I had rarely let anyone see it happen. I'm not sure who I expected to see standing there, but it certainly wasn't Grissom and I think surprise must have registered on my face.

"Sara?" From the tone of his voice and the compassion in his eyes I could tell that he knew this scene for whatever reason was bringing the memories of my father's murder right up to the surface and although he looked concerned I could also tell he didn't have a clue what to say.

"I'm fine, Grissom...really." I wanted to dismiss the doubtful expression on his face because the last thing that I wanted was to allow myself to have a heart to heart talk with him when I was trying so hard to move on and get past this thing I'd had for him; this habit really. A mirthful smile crossed my face as the lyrics to a song came to mind; he really was a hard habit to break.

"Sara." Grissom sounded more paternal than anything just then and I could tell he was torn between sending me home or to work the perimeter with Greg.

I immediately protested. "Really, I'm fine..." I clearly wasn't fine. "I'll be fine...I just need a minute." I think that the lack of sleep and being called back out to work a scene after just wanting to relax in that bubble bath was beginning to take a toll. We'd been at the scene for several hours already and even the coffee that I picked up on the way to get Nick was long gone.

Grissom hesitated a second; ever since Nick had been kidnapped and buried alive he'd really tried to be more of a people person with all of us, but it was in very incremental baby steps. "Sara...this scene..." He paused again as if trying to gather his thoughts. "If it's all too much..."

"I can handle this...I'm a professional." I did not want to get sent home like this. True, I really did want to soak in a hot tub right then, but now that I was here, working this case, I needed to finish; I owed the victims that much. If I couldn't be their last voice for justice it would haunt me like every case that I'd worked that hadn't found closure.

"I didn't say you couldn't handle it." Grissom exhaled loudly and looked at me over the rim of his glasses. "This scene...it's similar to your father's crime scene isn't it?" His perceptiveness sometimes just floored me.

I think I looked a little shocked for a minute and then I just nodded and wrapped my arms around myself in a protective gesture. I could not let Grissom in; I couldn't have this conversation with him right here; but there I was having it anyway, kicking myself mentally for letting myself get sucked back in just a little bit more when I was doing my best to pull away from him; to find out who I was when I didn't feel like I needed him.

"You don't have to do this...I could ask Greg to process..." Grissom's words were kind, but we both knew that Greg didn't have expertise in blood spatter analysis and I did.

I shook my head and tried to pull myself together. I tried to put a smile on my face; even if it was a thoroughly embarrassed one. There is just something about being vulnerable that I absolutely hate; especially when I'm working a crime scene. "No, I need to do this..." I took a deep breath and looked Grissom in the eye. "If there's one thing that I learned that night...everyone deserves justice, even if they end up being an abusive bastard of a husband like my father was." There is an edge of bitterness to my voice that I didn't expect to find there and I think even Grissom picks up on it.

His tone is surprisingly compassionate. "Your mother didn't deserve to have your father beat her up either." He could see the wince on my face and he reached out and touched my shoulder rather tentatively. "And you didn't deserve to grow up thinking that was normal."

I know that he means well, and his words are probably true, but all it does is make me feel defensive and protective of the secret that very few people know about. Perhaps it's from years of hiding it and perhaps it's because I just don't want to fall for Grissom again when I know that he is never going to return those feelings. I want to believe that despite all the crap in my life that there is someone out there who just might be able to look past all of that and love me anyway. I just know that it's not going to be Gil Grissom.

I cut him off before he can say anything more and I think the intensity of my words surprise him a bit. "Grissom, the reason that I'm a criminalist is _because _of what my mother did to my father...I can't just take the easy way out simply because something reminded me of my father's murder or because it might make you feel better about it. It happened, my mother's in prison and my father's dead. I can't do anything about that." I point towards the house that we've been processing. "But I _can_ make a difference here. I can do something about the bastard that did this so he can't hurt anyone else."

There must be a bit of fire in my eyes because I can tell by Grissom's expression that I've hit a nerve with him; that he understands my motivation and he isn't about to argue with it.

Or at least that's what I thought it was until I turned around.

Nick is standing there with the most shocked, saddest expression on his face and I can tell that he's heard enough of my conversation with Grissom to know my deepest, darkest secret. This was not the way that I'd intended for anyone to learn about my parents; hell, I'd never intended that anyone _ever_ learn about what had transpired between them in the first place.

I feel sick as I try to read Nick's face; to see if there is any judgment in his eyes, and I honestly can't tell. I've known him for years and I thought I could read him like a book, but this is all so much to take in and all I want to do is get the hell out of there before anyone else finds out.

Nick reached for my arm as I try to brush past him. "Sara." His voice is thick with emotion and I can't even bring myself to look at him; I don't want to explain this to him here, not like this. He's my friend and he deserves to hear more, just not right this minute.

I glance at his hand which has a gentle hold on my wrist and I shake my head. "Please don't say anything." I hope he understands why I can't talk about this with him right now.

"Sara." Nick's voice catches and there is just something about it that causes me to glance up and lock eyes with him for just a second. I don't know why, but I never expected to find that kind of compassion in his eyes.

"Nicky, please don't say anything." My eyes are pleading with his to understand that I don't want anyone else to know about this part of my life; not at least until I'm ready, and I really don't know if I'll ever be ready.

"Yeah." He nods at me and then glances over at Grissom as if asking for some sort of explanation.

I pull my arm away and clear my throat in an attempt to keep the emotion out. "I have a crime scene to process."

As I stride purposefully back towards the house I can hear Grissom's gentle voice speaking to Nick. "Let her go for now, Nicky."


	4. Chapter 4

I think the rest of the shift was a blur of bindles, swabs and photographs as I tried to focus on the task at hand. Cases like this were always meticulously laborious and I knew that the faster that I completed what I had been assigned to do, the faster I could get back to the lab and the faster I could go home and crash; then it would be up to the lab techs to start their part of the process. Unless of course the test results from the samples we'd already dumped on them from the previous crime scene were back, then all bets were off and I wouldn't be seeing the inside of that bathtub for a leisurely soak anytime soon. Of course, by the time I did get home I think about all I'll want to do will be to fall into my bed fully clothed; damn the pajamas.

I've never had a problem working with Nick before and right now I wanted to just ignore the fact that between he and I there was a deep chasm in the room. I could tell from the glances he kept stealing that he wanted to know more about what he'd overheard Grissom and I talking about, and from his posture I could see that there was something else there that I couldn't quite put my finger on; maybe hurt, anger, betrayal, fear, loathing; I just couldn't be sure which one. I only hoped that he had enough sense to not bring it up right here; I did not want anyone else to know about my crazy, screwed up family life. I couldn't take the risk that if they knew about it that they wouldn't judge me and find a reason to distance themselves from me like so many people who knew me before it happened had after my mother had been sent to prison and my brother and I had been shuttled off to foster care. It was as if the Sara that I was before that happened had been completely obliterated from everyone's memory. I didn't want that to happen again; not with these people who really had replaced my family.

I had worked very hard in my life to preserve my secret and I knew that to tell Nick would open it up just that much more. I knew that I could trust him; but I was still afraid of what his reaction would be once we were driving back to the lab and it was just him and I in my Denali. Somehow deep down I knew that he was going to feel hurt that I hadn't trusted him enough to tell him what had happened; especially since he'd been one of my closest friends in the nearly six years I'd lived in Vegas and he'd trusted me with information that I was certain that only a handful of other people knew about.

"Sara." Nick's voice broke through my thoughts and I had a sudden rush of panic that he was going to bring up the subject right here in the middle of the crime scene. I should have known better as I glanced up to see him staring at something intently on the wall and waving at me to come over for a closer look. "I think maybe I found something that looks a hell of a lot like that mystery gunk we found at the other scene."

I hunkered down next to Nick for a closer look as he tried to scrape a sample off for processing and as I studied the substance I realized that Nick wasn't going to ask me about what had transpired outside; he was far too professional for that and I had asked him not to say anything; if the subject was going to come up at the scene I was going to have to be the one to do it. If felt a rush of relief wash over me and suddenly that proverbial chasm seemed to disappear.

"It does look like the substance from the other scene." I was trying to concentrate on what I was looking at and trying to pull from my memory what we'd seen from the other scene; I'd have to wait until we were back at the lab to do a real visual comparison and as for knowing for sure if it was the same substance; I'd leave that to the expertise of David Hodges.

"If it is, that's just one more thing that confirms what Grissom was thinking." Nick seemed to fumble with his word for just a minute and I wasn't sure why. "Uh, about this being a serial that is."

Nerves. Nick seemed nervous and that made me nervous all over again. I just nodded. "Yeah, but it doesn't prove it; it could be some common substance that we've just never had the occasion to run across before...at least that I know of." For some reason, I felt like I couldn't get out an intelligent thought just then.

Nick quirked an eyebrow and looked like he was going to say something and then didn't. Instead he furrowed his brow and somehow I could tell that he was still trying to process what he'd overheard. He cleared his throat and forced a smile as he glanced around, presumably to make sure no one was within earshot before he spoke. I think he could tell that just the idea of talking about that subject here filled me with panic because he shook his head and whispered softly to try and reassure me as he tried to make eye contact with me. "I just want to know if you'll talk to me about it later."

I didn't really want to; but I felt like he needed to know the whole story since he'd already heard the worst part of it. I had to take the chance that my friend Nick would be just that afterwards; my friend. He'd never given me a reason to doubt him before and I needed to believe that he would just continue to be there no matter what happened in my life or what had happened in the past.

I tried to smile, but it felt forced. "Yeah, we can talk." I could tell that he was glad that I'd agreed, but his countenance fell just a bit as I continued. "But not today."

I knew that by the time we got done processing the scene and took the evidence back to the lab to log in that we'd all be ready to fall over from lack of sleep. Having a serious discussion in that state was something I wasn't willing to do; you tended to do and say things that you'd regret later when you were sleep deprived; there was a reason that the symptoms of it so closely paralleled being drunk.

Nick looked at me intently for a moment, I think he was trying to get some clarification that I wasn't just telling him that we'd talk and then never get around to it. "After this is wrapped up and we both get some sleep...I'll make you breakfast or dinner or something and we can talk...ok?" He was definitely not going to let this go.

I looked him in the eyes and again I was taken aback a little by the kindness there. "You don't have to do that..." I didn't want to make a big deal over something that I suppose really was a big deal; but then that's Nick for you, he is the type of person that wants to make you feel at home right before you spill out your life story. I think all those other times we'd talked over pizza and beer or pancakes was catching up to me and I knew for this conversation he'd better come up with a good bottle of wine somewhere in the middle of it all; I was going to need it.

"I want to." Nick was smiling now and his expression had taken on a protective air. If I didn't know better I would have sworn he was getting ready to battle my demons for me and it almost made me giggle; something that would have been a welcome respite from the hell we were processing. I know better than to argue with Nick once he sets his mind to something; I think that taking care of people is something he learned growing up in a family as large as his is, and I don't think he even thinks about it; it's second nature. Still, it makes me uncomfortable to accept it, to be fussed over as Nick would say. I'm much more comfortable blending into the background where no one is going to notice me as I do my job. Well unless someone pisses me off that is, then all bets are off and you'd better get the hell out of my way. I suppose it's at least partially true what Ecklie says about me; I am a bit of a loose cannon, but the thing he doesn't understand about me is that I would never snap the way my mother did, there are other more effective ways to get justice than to kill someone.

"Well I think that's enough of our mystery gunk." Nick grinned in satisfaction that he'd found a solid connection between the two cases and he stowed his swabs into his kit before glancing around the room and quirking a brow at me. "You about done?"

"Yeah, I think I am." I really wasn't sure, but as I glanced around myself I realized that between the two of us, we'd been over just about every square inch of that house; I was fairly certain that we'd found whatever was going to be found in there. I'd lost track of how long we'd been working and now that I realized all we had to do was go back and log in evidence, all I wanted to do was sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Whoever said that sleep is overrated clearly has never worked a triple shift with an interrupted bubble bath in the middle of it. Sleep was all I wanted by the time we'd gotten back to the lab and logged in the evidence we'd collected. One by one, Grissom started sending everyone but himself home and I was considering whether I was alert enough to drive or whether I should just crash on the break room couch. I was beginning to see the idea of sleeping on the couch as my primary option when Nick walked into the locker room and quirked an eyebrow at me. "You shouldn't be driving, Sar."

Apparently, I looked as tired as I felt and it was only at that point that I'd remembered that I'd given Nick a ride to the crime scene in the first place and had told him that I'd give him a lift home too. "Yeah, I know." Despite my best effort to stifle it, a yawn forced its way out of my mouth. "I was thinking about taking over the couch in the break room."

The look on Nick's face just then I'm sure had been perfected without him even realizing it from years of his mother giving him the very same sort of look. "You need sleep, not a cat nap." I could tell that despite his own fatigue that the wheels were churning away inside his mind. "I'll drive you home." He gestured towards the door of the locker room as if the discussion was closed.

Now it was my turn to quirk an eyebrow. "I picked you up, remember." Not that stating the obvious changed the fact that I was far too tired to drive, and truly the idea of being driven to my house where I had a nice comfortable bed held much more appeal than sleeping on the break room couch. Still, I can be a little hard headed and sometimes I have a difficult time accepting something as simple as a ride; especially when it's a ride in my own vehicle; well the department's vehicle really.

"Yeah, so what's your point?" Nick's soft chuckle and the amused expression on his face implied that there was no point in arguing with him and so I let out a sigh of resignation and rolled my eyes a bit as I handed him my keys.

"Just take it easy on the corners, ok?" I did my best to give him a stern expression but he was already gathering his gear.

"I'm a good driver; I've almost never had an accident." Nick smirked. How the hell he could look this alert when I knew he hadn't had enough sleep was beyond me.

"Oh, what a way to instill confidence in your driving ability; _almost_ never." I shut my own locker and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for him to say something.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault either time." Nick closed his locker and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder before pushing me towards the door. He leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial tone. "You can't be at fault when you're at a complete stop."

"A complete stop." I'm sure that if I wasn't so damn tired my tone would have been oozing doubt. It's not that I don't believe that Nick's a good driver, it's just that he and Warrick have a tendency to see reaching crime scenes as some sort of race and when you add a turbo charged engine, flashing lights and a siren, well, what little boy wouldn't take advantage of that?

"Yes, a complete stop." Nick shook his head and chuckled at me as we pushed our way through the front doors of the lab. As the sun hits my face I'm suddenly thankful for a friend like Nick who insists on taking me home so I can get a decent sleep; I'm sure an hour or two on the break room couch would have held me over, but the reality is that I do that far too often and I think it's catching up with me.

Somehow I don't even mind that Nick's opened the passenger door for me or taken my bag out of my hands to toss in the back seat. In fact, once I'm in the seat, I really don't even remember the ride to my apartment.

Somewhere between the lab and waking up to a knock on the door to my apartment, there is a fairly significant gap of time that I can't recall anything; and then there is also the question of how I ended up in my pajamas that I'm going to have to ask Nick about later. I'm not sure who I expected to see standing at my door, but it certainly wasn't the person that I found when I opened the door and I think my shock was reflected in my voice.

"Grissom." There was something about the look in his eye that looked vaguely odd; something that I'd never seen there before anyway and I felt immediately self conscious about the fact that I was in pajamas, but thankful that they were both modest and boring.

"Sara." Grissom's tone held something; as if he had come there specifically to talk to me about something. And knowing Grissom, whatever it was had to be work related. Although, with my luck since I'd determined to move on and get over him, he'd finally grown enough of a backbone to confess his feelings for me. Well, he was just going to find out that it was too late.

Maybe.

For some reason I let him in.

"I like what you've done with your apartment." Grissom had never been one for small talk and here he was doing just that; in fact as I glanced around, I had to commend myself for the wall color I'd chosen, but as I looked in the direction he was, I realized that he was talking about the insect specimens that I'd hung on the wall in an effort to try and understand him a little more.

"Thanks." I'm sure that I was furrowing my brow at him trying to figure out what the hell he was doing there in my apartment when the Grissom I thought I knew should still be in his office at the lab, having fallen asleep over case files as he waited for the evidence to be processed in this huge case we were all working.

"Did you know that the female black widow spider devours the male after mating?" The expression on his face suddenly looked a bit predatory and I felt myself backing up a little.

"Yes, I did know that." That was just like Grissom to bring up some strange and random fact about the bug world that didn't seem to have any relevance to the real world, but he always seemed to find some way to bring it back around; in this case, that thought left me feeling rather unsettled.

"What would you do, Sara?" Grissom was completely serious, yet I wasn't sure if he was propositioning me or asking me what I would do if I were a spider. I took another step back.

"Huh?" To say that I was confused was an understatement and as I glanced back at the wall, the insects that I had mounted up there seemed to be wiggling.

"Let's have dinner." Grissom looked like he wanted to have me for dinner and since I found myself unable to move he took a few steps towards me and reached out to touch my face. "And maybe see what else might happen."

If I'd thought that Grissom's lips would be soft and strong and I'd find my legs feeling weak as a result, I couldn't have been more wrong. The kiss was wet and far too sloppy and I found myself pushing him away in protest, realizing that I didn't want it; I didn't want him.

"No, Grissom. Stop." I was confronted with a confused look from the man that I'd spent the better part of the last few years being completely obsessed with. "I can't do this...It's too late."

"Sara." He seemed to protest.

"No, Grissom." I wanted to be firm. I couldn't let myself be jerked around like this for my own sake. I couldn't know for sure if he wasn't going to decide after we'd crossed a few more lines that he wouldn't decide that he'd made the biggest mistake of his life; I wasn't willing to take that risk any more.

"Sara." He was pleading with me now and his voice sounded odd.

"Grissom, I said no." I think I was forceful enough because he backed up and looked as if he was truly sorry for kissing me. Somehow that made me feel both sad and relieved at the same time.

"Sara." This time his voice had a distinct twang to it and I felt a hand on my shoulder giving me a gentle shake. "Sara, wake up, you're home."

I blinked my eyes open, feeling a bit disoriented as I finally realized that I'd only dreamed about Grissom kissing me because here I was in my Denali with Nick sitting in the parking lot of my apartment.

"You were talking in your sleep." Nick looked clearly amused as unbuckled his seatbelt and he glanced over at me, and as I reached up to cover a yawn, I realized that I'd been drooling.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the time delay in updating. I was on a much needed vacation.


	6. Chapter 6

"What did I say?" I think the word 'horrified' pretty much summed up how I felt at that particular second; not knowing exactly how much of my dream had been intelligible to Nick and just how much of that he pieced together. Not that my obsession with Grissom was a big secret; it was just that I'd never really talked about it with Nick like I had with Warrick or even Greg and I really wasn't sure he was going to buy into my resolve to get past my obsession with Grissom especially if all he'd heard was me saying Grissom's name over and over again.

Nick looked as if he was trying to restrain a smirk. "Something I wasn't sure I'd ever hear come out of the mouth of Sara Sidle." He was obviously trying to make the most of the opportunity and tease me. "No, Grissom...stop, Grissom." His voice was a poor imitation of mine.

I shot him my best glare of death which usually had the most confident guy making a hasty retreat; well at least I'd like to think it has that sort of effect on them.

Nick laughed. "Don't sweat it, Sar. I won't tell Grissom if you don't want me to." He quirked a brow at me in what I assumed was curiosity. "I'm just curious what it was you were telling him to stop doing, you were protesting pretty strongly..."

If there's one thing that I really hate about Nick it's the fact that he can read me like a book. Judging from the burning in my cheeks, I'm fairly certain that Nick picked right up on exactly _what_ Grissom was doing in my dream.

When I glanced up at Nick, he had a sympathetic look in his eyes. "Sorry, I thought maybe you were telling him you needed a day off." I knew he was trying to backpedal and fish for more information all at the same time.

Since I knew that without a doubt it was going to come up later if I didn't say something now, I decided to just plunge right in and get it over with. Despite some misgivings, I looked Nick right in the eyes. "I know we've never really talked about my ridiculous preoccupation with Grissom." I could tell he wanted to say something, but I held my hand up to stop him. "No, I _know_ it's ridiculous...and I realize that I need to move on; I need to get over him...that I _am_ over him."

Nick looked skeptical. "No offense, Sara, but you're thinking about it an awful lot for someone who is says she's over him." Nick was right of course, but it's not like this decision was something that had happened a long time ago; I was still trying to adjust to it myself and figure out exactly how you made yourself fall out of love with someone who couldn't love you back.

I think I must have let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm working on it, ok?" Why Nick felt the need to talk about this right now was incredibly annoying. I was damn tired and I knew he probably was too and I did _not_ need to have an emotional breakdown in front of him. Ok, so I _was_ the one who had brought it up; but did he have to be so damn observant?

"No one said you had to get over him, Sar." Nick's tone was sympathetic, but I knew for a fact that all of them had talked about it; that they all knew Grissom was never going to grow a spine and do anything about the feelings he had for me. I knew they felt sorry for me that I couldn't seem to find a man that wasn't either already attached as Hank had been or who wasn't emotionally unavailable; case in point, Grissom.

"But you've all thought it." I knew by his expression that I was right. As much as it would have been fun to string him along for a while I was still tired and I wanted to get inside and get some sleep before I decided to just stay right there and go back to sleep in the Denali. "_I_ said I had to get over him."

Nick looked confused; or at least I think that's how he looked. If it wasn't confusion then I really couldn't place what he was thinking, and I think I'm fairly good at reading him.

"I know he's never going to do anything about his feelings." I don't know why, but I felt a little awkward having this conversation with _Nick_. Not that we hadn't had more serious conversations than I could remember; it's just that we'd never had a serious conversation about _this_; about my feelings for _Grissom_.

Nick nodded a bit somberly and shrugged his shoulders. "You're right, he's not." There was something about the way he said it that made me wonder if he'd had a conversation with Grissom about this very subject; but I knew Grissom better than that and knew that the only person Grissom might have even possibly had a conversation close to that was probably Catherine.

Hearing Nick say that made me mad; it was one thing to come to that conclusion on my own and resolve to move on, but to hear him confirm what I really did know was true just made it that much more real; especially since Nick and I had never talked about it before. If it was that obvious to all of the people around me, there was no way that I could even feign denial about it. Despite the fact that I knew that Gil Grissom, prominent forensic entomologist, had feelings for me; he would never act on them, and here I was left with picking up all of the pieces of my heart and completely unsure of how to do that.

Nick reached out for my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Sara, just because he doesn't have the balls to pursue you doesn't mean that you're not worth it." He flashed me a smile that I have come to know over the years as typically Nick.

I think I nodded; at least I was nodding in my mind as I tried to gather my thoughts a little. "I know that; I really do, Nick." I forced a little smile as I continued. "In my head it makes perfect sense that I need to move on and I'm there, I really am. I just think it's going to take a little while for my heart to catch up."

Nick had a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, you're not the only one who's been in love with someone that didn't love them back." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "You've got to give yourself permission to take as long as it takes; you can't force yourself to get over someone."

I shook my head, this time I knew for sure that I was actually moving it as I cut Nick off. "No, I don't want to have feelings for him, Nick. I don't want to spend the rest of my life fixating on someone who isn't ever going to be with me. I want a chance at being happy; I want to believe that maybe there really is someone out there who could love me and isn't afraid to tell me." I wanted it all; I just wasn't sure I believed that it would ever happen, especially given the family that I'd grown up in.

"I'm sure there is, Sara...I just hope that you love him as much as he loves you." Nick looked completely sincere; confident, really, as if he knew something about my future that I had yet to see.

I wanted to say something to let him know that I appreciated the sentiment; that I knew he was just being nice, but somehow a yawn escaped just then; even after my little nap.

"Hey, don't start that, it's contagious." Nick let out a yawn too. Suddenly, it occurred to me that he didn't look much like he should be driving either. His shoulders were sagging and his eyes looked like they'd been open far too long; bone tired would have been a good description.

"We both need to get some sleep." I just wanted to get inside and fall into bed; continuing this conversation and the other one that I'd promised could wait until later.

Nick let out another yawn. "Yeah, I should get home...what time should I swing back by and get you?" He clearly intended to drive my vehicle home; something that I didn't think was a very good idea.

"You shouldn't be driving." I knew that he'd probably protest and tell me that he was just fine, but I knew that he'd been awake too long to be a safe driver; he probably shouldn't have even driven me home truth be told.

"I'll be fine." Nick let out another yawn and then a chuckle as he realized that he was running out of energy quite a bit faster than even he would admit to.

"You're sleeping on my couch...I don't want you to get in an accident." I hoped that my tone was firm enough. Besides, this way, when we woke up, I could get that discussion about my hellish family out of the way in the privacy of my own home. There was no way I was going to tell him anything in the diner the team frequented for breakfast; that would a very good way to let my secret out a little bit more and I just wasn't ready to go that public yet.


	7. Chapter 7

I probably should have felt more uncomfortable sitting there on my couch in my pajamas; damp hair curling up around my face as I spilled out my life story to a freshly showered Nick. He was sporting the gray LVPD T-shirt and shorts he'd had in his duffel bag he'd pulled out of his locker and he toweled his hair dry as he listened to me talk. Maybe it was all the sleep I'd finally gotten, or the fact that Nick has been keeping his culinary skills beyond pancakes a secret; but after enough hours of sleep, a frittata and a shower, I was feeling more like a human being again and since he'd already heard the worst part of my life story, I reasoned that there wasn't much I was going to say that would scare off my friend.

"So you were about thirteen then?" Nick studied me the way he might survey a key piece of evidence at a crime scene, but with such gentleness in his eyes that I knew he truly wanted to know more about the morning that my mother killed my father.

"Just." The images of the time before my mom had killed my dad flitted in and out of my mind. There were some happy times, but they were few and far between in my memories because the hell always stood out. In reality, there probably were just enough good times that had my mom convinced that she could stay; that maybe, just maybe he wouldn't hit her again. But it had all come to a head shortly after my thirteenth birthday.

Nick quirked an eyebrow slowly and I could tell from the tone of his voice that he had a sneaking suspicion what I was going to tell him. "How close to your birthday did it happen, Sar?"

I smiled sadly as I remembered how my mom had promised that this year I could have a slumber party with the few close friends I'd forged over the years of living in Tamales Bay. I had been looking forward to having a slumber party so we could stay up late and giggle about the things that even nerdy teenage girls talked about. But since my birthday was two weeks into the school year, my dad thought a slumber party was a bad idea; that my time would be better used studying and helping them out with their struggling bed and breakfast. Three days after my birthday on the morning of what was supposed to be my first slumber party, my entire life went to hell.

I glanced up at Nick who was still waiting for an answer. "A few days after." For some reason my emotions seemed to choke out my words a little, but I pushed them aside as best as I could and continued. "I was supposed to have a birthday party that day...a slumber party actually." Oddly, I wasn't sure what had disappointed more me that day as a thirteen year old; the fact that my father was dead or that I wasn't going to get to celebrate my birthday. Strange how that line of thinking made perfect sense in my young mind; I think it was the only way I could wrap my mind around what had happened and not completely fall apart.

Nick winced and I could tell that he was blinking back tears at my admission. There was so much about his life that seemed perfect from my perspective that I didn't think he could ever fathom anyone in his family hurting anyone the way my dad regularly hurt my mom or how my mom had finally put an end to it. Simply put, my life growing up might as well have been on another planet when compared to the idyllic life I'm sure that Nick had as a child.

Strangely, I felt a bit of the burden I'd been carrying since he'd overheard Grissom and me talking lift a little and it compelled me to continue. "At first I thought it would just blow over." Confusion registered on Nick's face for a moment so I thought maybe I ought to clarify. "They were arguing all morning and now I can't even remember what it was about; or maybe I don't want to remember." My words trailed off a little and I noticed that Nick had stopped toweling his hair and he was just looking at me with a stoic expression on his face.

"Nick, it happened a long time ago...I've learned to deal with it." I felt more worried about how he was going to take what I was telling him than about the fact that he was one more person that I was making privy to my deepest darkest secret.

In true Nick fashion, he grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze as a sad smile flitted across his face. "It might have happened a long time ago, Sara, but you never stop carrying it with you." He had such conviction in his voice that made me wonder if he was carrying more with him than what I knew about; if his childhood hadn't been as idyllic as I'd wanted to believe. He continued talking. "There are some events in your life that change the entire course of it...you never in a million years would have chosen them for yourself, but all the pieces come together and make who we've become."

I knew that his burial was still fresh in all of our minds and it was something that none of us brought up very often; I reasoned that if Nick wanted to talk about it, he'd bring it up. But I considered that maybe he needed someone to ask him how he was because he was far too considerate most of the time to focus on himself and his misfortunes. Maybe the approach we'd taken was the wrong one and the way to be a true friend sometimes was to do exactly what Nick had done with me and not let me get out of talking about it.

I nodded at him and felt the corners of my mouth lift up a little. "It does, doesn't it?" I squeezed his hand back before I pulled it out of his grasp and let out a sigh, glancing up into his eyes for some sort of reassurance that he didn't feel sorry for me. "I wouldn't have ever chosen this...I think I must be a masochist choosing a career trying to solve someone else's hell every night." My laugh sounds bitter even to my own ears.

"Then we all are." Nick looks at me earnestly and I think now that I'm sure that there's a lot about my friend that I don't know. I really don't know why he's a CSI; surely there are a ton of things that Nick could have become that would be far easier and would pay a hell of a lot more than what we do, especially considering the connections he has in Texas.

I've spent the better part of the last six years keeping everyone at arms length so that I can not only avoid getting hurt, but avoid anyone discovering the one thing that I'm sure would make them reject me. Suddenly, I feel the need to just be honest; to let someone in and know who the real me is.

"Do you think there's a murder gene?" I'd asked Grissom the same question and while he'd vehemently denied it; I felt a measure of doubt in his voice. Grissom didn't trust people, he trusted evidence and right then I felt like I needed to know what the most genuine people person I knew felt about my question.

"No, Sara." Nick reaches for my hand again and then he pulls me into a fierce hug. "I don't believe in any murder gene." I can tell by the emotion in his voice that there's so much more he wants to say, but I think what I really need is what he's doing; I need reassurance from my friend that despite the living hell I grew up in I'm ok; that I'm going to be ok and that he's not going anywhere.

The waver in my voice surprises me a little and as I feel a tear slip down my cheek, I hold onto Nick a little tighter. "Then how could I love my mom and dad, Nick; how could I love him when he beat the hell out of her...how could I love her for killing him?" It was true there was a part of me that loved my mom for having the courage for making it all stop. It wasn't the way I'd have chosen it, but she made it stop for all of us. But then it had started a whole new kind of hell where everyone I'd grown up with found out about what life at my house had really been like and I knew that as long as I lived in Tamales Bay I'd never have a slumber party; I'd never have the innocence of simply sharing a secret mixed with giggles with a friend. And even when I'd entered foster care there was a part of me that had determined that I couldn't let myself love anyone again, it just wasn't safe because it hurt so much; maybe that's why unattainable Gil Grissom had been so appealing to me.

Nick was rocking me gently; I'm not sure he was even aware of it as he whispered into my ear to try and reassure me. "Sara, you can't help who you love; you just do."


	8. Chapter 8

People talk about having buyer's remorse all the time; usually they're talking about the after effects of purchasing a house or a car where they second guess whether or not they've made the right decision. Right after Nick and I got to the lab that night to continue working on the case, I came down with a severe case of sharing remorse. It wasn't that I really thought Nick would blab to the entire lab or that at the moment I was telling him about my horrific childhood that I didn't trust him, it was just that now I'd had time to think about what I'd said and how much I'd shared, the potential for that to happen existed. I hadn't even told Grissom half of what I'd just shared with Nick and that made me feel incredibly vulnerable; a feeling that I did not enjoy on any level because I felt at any moment that I could be betrayed or that maybe I didn't know Nick as well as I thought I had and that my secret really wasn't all that safe. And the fact that Grissom had sent Nick back out to the second crime scene with Warrick while I continued to process evidence in the lab just fueled my imagination about a potential slip of Nick's tongue.

As I processed a shirt that we'd found at the second crime scene, I found something that seemed to match the mystery gunk that we'd found at both scenes and I knew that only the trace lab could really confirm that it was the same substance. After photographing the shirt and documenting my findings, I cut a small piece of the shirt and put it into a bindle so that I could drop it off with Hodges.

I glanced up and noticed that I'd been sitting in that layout room for far longer than I'd thought and I realized that considering the amount of items still to process, that coffee might just be a good idea. I dropped the sample off to Hodges and headed towards the break room in search of what I had a faint hope would be Greg's coffee.

What I found was Grissom sitting there pouring over the case files and sipping a cup of coffee. He didn't even glance up when I walked in and a part of me felt a pang that my mere presence in a room didn't turn him to mush, like his had to me for far too long until just recently. I poured myself a cup and sat down at the table across from him.

He didn't even look up. "Have you ever noticed the color of the soil up near Lake Mead?"

I assumed that there was some sort of relevance to our case. "Reddish." My curiosity was piqued; Grissom had been pouring over all of our reports and had the advantage of being able to put bits and pieces of information together that the rest of us hadn't seen yet as one cohesive whole.

"And what color was the soil from the footprints we collected at each scene?" Grissom glanced up at me over the rim of his glasses as if he had all the information and he wanted to feed it to me piece by piece to see if I came to the same conclusion.

"Reddish." I furrowed my brow, now that I considered it, the soil that we found tracked onto the carpeting in each house was unusual, at first glance we assumed it had come from the yard, but it hadn't quite matched up.

"But not this reddish." Grissom slid a picture of the microscopic analysis to me where it became clear that the reddish soil looked more like crushed bits of pottery than soil.

"Pueblo pottery?" It was the only type of pottery that I was familiar with, but this had a shimmer to it also, so I knew it couldn't be a primitive sort.

A tiny half smirk pulled at the edge of Grissom's mouth. "This is from Raku pottery. It's fired at 2000 degrees Fahrenheit which is what gives it the almost iridescent look. I have several pieces in my townhouse."

I cast Grissom a thoughtful glance. "So Raku is more of an art piece than a functional piece." I could see where he was going with this. If we could conclusively tie the pottery fragments together, then we would know that the killer in both cases was likely the same person; however, we were still no closer to learning who that was.

"Yes, you should visit some of the galleries in Sedona sometime; there are examples of some very good Raku pottery." He glanced down at the file again as if he was waiting for the killer to walk right out of it and become obvious to him.

"I tried to visit Sedona once; you paged me to come into work." I think my tone came out more annoyed than I'd intended. Several times I'd followed his advice about trying to get a life outside of the lab, but each time I'd taken up friends on offers to head out of town to see what else there was out there besides Vegas, Grissom seemed to cut it short by paging me. In the case of the almost trip to Sedona, I'd been invited along in an effort by one of my friends to set me up on a blind date; today I was feeling a little bitter about that since the man sitting across from me couldn't seem to get his act together and realize that the world wouldn't end if we went on one date.

Grissom looked up at me with a fish out of water expression, his mouth opened, then closed and then opened again as it seemed he wanted to say something. I'd obviously caught him off guard with my tone.

It irritated me that Nick seemed to be right about the amount of time I was still spending thinking about Grissom and mulling over a lost cause. I really needed to take some sort of action that was irrevocable; something that would indicate to Grissom that it was too late to pursue me and that I'd moved on. Well I was _trying_ to move on; he didn't need to know that I was on the beginning of that journey.

I looked at Grissom squarely and just plowed right into it. "You don't need to say anything...I'm not looking for anything from you...on a personal level that is...that is romantically." I'm not sure I would say that Grissom looked relieved; he had a rather odd expression on his face.

He cleared his throat. "Sara." He clearly didn't know what to say and that familiar feeling that I had over talked again began to swirl around in my stomach.

I forced a smile and interrupted him. "Grissom, I know that you're never going to do anything about your feelings for me...and I'm ok with that; I've moved on...I know how much your career means to you." I only hoped I sounded calmer than I felt.

"Sara." Grissom had a more intense expression on his face and he let out a resigned sigh as he finally leaned back in his seat and looked at me as if I were an equal. "It's not that simple." His brow furrowed as he continued. "I don't think you understand what's at stake here."

I felt the need to interrupt his rationalization. "No, Grissom, I know _exactly_ what's at stake, but it doesn't matter anymore; your indecision has become your decision. It's too late." As I talked I found strength and confidence in my words; I really did believe what I was saying; no matter how my heart felt, it really was too late for him.

Grissom looked a little confused; there might also have been some relief in his expression, but he quickly turned his attention back to the file. His brow was still deeply furrowed and he glanced up one more time as I took the final sip from my coffee. "The lab really does need you, Sara."

"I know." I knew it was his way of wanting to make sure that my declaration wasn't going to be followed up with a letter of resignation on his desk. While I knew that it was going to be a difficult path to get past the familiar comfort of knowing that he would never act on his feelings I wanted to explore the possibilities of other things that I was picking up on. I took my cup and headed over to the sink to deposit it before heading out of the break room. I stopped in the doorway and glanced back at Grissom. "I've got to get back to the case."

I settled myself in the layout room once again and got back to work. With more than enough evidence to keep me buried for the better part of the next few shifts, I hoped that Nick and Warrick would be back from the scene soon to help me process. Not only did I need the help, I wanted to put some feelers out to see if the vibes I'd be picking up from Nick held any promise in them.


	9. Chapter 9

The problem with making big a declaration that you've moved on is when you begin to second guess yourself about a half hour after you've made that declaration. I feel like I'm taking two steps forward and thirty-one back at times. There is a part of me that wants to prove to Grissom that I'm worth taking the risk for, that he and I really could be good for each other. But I know that deep down we wouldn't be good for each other. We are so much alike that despite what I'd consider a somewhat symbiotic relationship with him, there is nothing there that would cause either of us to grow further as people; we are too similar to truly challenge each other to be something other than better criminalists. I think that we'd come so far and then one of us; most likely me, would experience some soul wrenching tragedy or have a moment of clarity about the circumstance of a particular case that would alter the way we view the world and then that symbiotic harmony would be broken and we just wouldn't be able to understand each other in quite the same way. I think I'm beginning to understand that maybe this is something Grissom realized way before I did; that maybe that's what he was talking about to Dr. Lurie in that interrogation room. Maybe the risk that he couldn't take was about more than just his career; maybe just maybe it had to do with our friendship too. Of course our friendship has been in a rather sorry state for quite a while now, so maybe I'm doubtful that I could mean something to him even close to what his career does.

Then again, part of why I feel the need to move on is because I feel like I've been fixating on him simply to avoid what might be out there. Or maybe it's not _what's_ out there but _who_ is that I'm afraid to find. I think that if I'd bothered to listen to people years ago about needing to get out more that maybe I wouldn't be in this predicament where my life pretty much revolves around the crime lab. I spend most of my time here; most of my friends are here and that pretty much reduces the dating pool to people here in the lab or to friends of theirs since I'm not about to go out clubbing just to pick up some guy; I've worked enough crime scenes that started out that way that I can do without.

That brings me to Nick. Nick and I have been good friends for a long time; I'm sure if I tried to that it would be difficult to find someone as genuine as he is. I think there are a lot of people around the lab that feel that when I get upset about something that I need to be handled with kid gloves. Not Nick. One thing that I have come to appreciate about him is that even if I'm being a complete ass; and yes, I'll admit to being there once or twice, that he isn't afraid to call me on it and then just continue on as if it was a minor twist in the road of life. That sort of friendship completely perplexes me because while I've seen it demonstrated by Nick towards just about everyone he knows, and I'd like to think that I'm the kind of friend to him that he is to me, I just don't think I come close. So herein lies part of my quandary. Nick treats everyone the way that he treats me, so why in the world should I take the leap to think that he might feel something for me that goes beyond the boundaries of friendship? There is something very secure in boundaries; having grown up with so much turmoil, I find comfort in sameness and routine and to divert from that means uncertainty, which brings me back to Grissom.

I think I've probably looked over this piece of evidence fifty times and I still don't think it's going to yield a single clue as to who our serial is, but since my mind hasn't exactly been on paying attention to detail for the last half hour or so, I think I owe it to the victims to take another look. I'm not sure, but there seems to be a small shard of what I hope is pottery stuck in the seaming of this shoe.

"Got anything interesting there?" Nick's voice drawls softly as he and Warrick walk into the layout room, both of them looking a little more than tired.

I can't help but smile because as I hold up the tiny shard I've just tweezed from the shoe it gives me hope that we've at least got some insight that our victim was alive when the shard imbedded itself in the shoe. "Raku."

Warrick looks at me a bit oddly and quirks an eyebrow. "Ragu? What does spaghetti sauce have to do with it?" I think I would have laughed if he didn't look so serious.

The corners of my mouth are doing their best to smirk despite my conscious effort to keep from doing so. "Ra_k_u as in pottery. Grissom determined the reddish substance we found at both scenes were pieces of crushed Raku pottery."

"Yeah." Nick nodded and from the look on his face I'd say that the gears inside of his mind were working on overdrive. "My mom has a few pieces of that. Really different looking, I think she said that no two pieces really look the same because of the way the clay reacts to being fired."

"Exactly." Nick surprises me sometimes with how much he knows. People used to tease him all the time that he spent too much time watching the Discovery Channel, but I know for a fact that he is much deeper than that. Sure he does have this really odd interest in birds, but he explained to me once that his father used to take him down to South Padre Island on the Gulf coast off of Texas every summer for a trip and the island is teaming with all sorts of birds. It was something other than sports that he shared with his dad that he didn't have to share with anyone else in his very large family. It was only natural that he learned a lot about them.

"So where does that put us, because that trip out to the last crime scene got us nothing." Warrick sounds tired and frustrated and I can't help but wonder if these long hours we work is taking a toll on his marriage; it certainly can't be easy.

Nick purses his lips together thoughtfully. "Well, it brings up the economic class of our assailant I'd say. Other than our mystery gunk it seems the pottery is the only physical evidence that ties the two crimes together."

I know that he's right and it's almost as if I can read his mind as I jump in. "What if the assailant is an artist?" Warrick and Nick looked at me curiously so I continue my line of thought out loud. "I mean it makes sense in twisted way. The pottery is unusual; people don't buy it unless they're going to display it. What if the artist wanted the pieces back?"

"Then why destroy them?" Warrick had that piercing look as he considered what would motivate someone to kill in such a horrific manner over a piece of art.

Nick's brow was furrowed as he chimed in. "Maybe it wasn't about the pottery itself; maybe it was something deeper...maybe we should be looking into the relationship between our two vics."

I knew that Nick was right; the more connections we could find, the more success we were going to have in solving both of these cases. A thought occurred to me. "Guys, we should be checking with galleries that sell Raku and see if anyone there knows either of our vics."

None of us had noticed Grissom walking into the layout room until he chimed in. "Catherine already is." He quirked his brow in a very Grissomesque manner and glanced over at Warrick. "Warrick, I'd like you to help, I'm going to run down a few leads with Brass." He glanced over at Nick and I. "Nick. Sara. I need you to keep processing the evidence." With that he was gone as quickly as he arrived and Warrick just nodded and sauntered out into the hallway as Nick settled himself in a chair across from me with a smirk that I really wanted to wipe off of his face.

In response to his chuckle, I arched a single brow his direction and tried on my best glare for size. "What?"

Sometimes it annoys me that he is so completely unfazed by those looks that have Greg running the other direction; Nick just laughs at me. "Since when did you stop being teacher's pet?"

I know he's just trying to tease me and I think he's a little taken aback when I glance up and reply quite seriously. "Probably right about when I told him that I was over him and I'd moved on."

Nick's eyes widened and his jaw drops a little bit. "You didn't?" But I can tell that he can tell that I meant exactly what I said; despite those second thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

"Yes, I did." I really hope that Nick will just let this go; I've been thinking far too much about the whole topic of Grissom while I should have been paying more attention to the evidence that still needs to be processed that I'm afraid if we launch into a discussion about it right now that we might miss something imperative to the case.

"So, you just walked right into his office and told him." Nick's tone held disbelief and perhaps a bit of a challenge to find exactly what I had done. I still can't believe what I did.

I smirked at him without looking up. "No. He was sitting in the break room and it came up." It was really odd when I thought about how it _had_ come up. I hadn't intended to tell Grissom that I was over him and that I'd moved on, but now that I had, there really wasn't any going back.

Nick snorted. "It came up?" He reached for an evidence bag and carefully broke the seal as he shook his head. "How in the world does 'I'm over you and I'm moving on' come up in casual conversation?" It was obvious he didn't understand how easily something like that _could_ come up in conversation; but then again, Nick is a man and well, how do I say this nicely; sometimes men are dense as hell.

"Yes, it came up." I can tell he's not going to let this go so I might as well just tell him what he wants to know so we can focus on the case. "He mentioned that a lot of the galleries in Sedona have Raku pottery and then he said that I might like Sedona. I reminded him that I tried to go there once, but he paged me to come into work and it just sort of went from there." I'm tired, this whole thing has worn me out and right now I really want a bubble bath more than I want to process the second shoe of our victim.

"Oh." Nick was silent for a long while as we both worked on separate items. I should have known better than to think he could stay silent for very long though.

Nick cleared his throat. "Hey, Sara?"

I glanced up hopefully thinking that maybe he'd found something on the belt he was processing. "Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" It was obvious that Nick wanted more information on either _what_ I'd told Grissom or _why_ I'd told him at all and he was testing the waters to see if I wanted to share more without appearing rude.

I glanced over at him and smirked. "It's never stopped you before." If there is something unique about my friendship with Nick it's the fact that there really is nothing he's afraid to ask me; not that I'm always willing to answer, but he's never afraid to ask.

Nick smirked back and then let out a soft chuckle before a softer, gentle expression registered in his features. "Why did you tell Grissom at all? I mean it's not like he was going to do anything, Sara, not after all this time...you could have just moved on without putting yourself out there like that."

He had a point, but I'm pretty sure I know why I had to say something. I'm sure I'm nibbling at my lower lip as I consider how much I want to say; finally, I glance up and feel the corners of my mouth curling up into a sort of half smile half smirk. "This way I can't take it back." I hope that simple explanation satisfies him for the moment.

Nick looks perplexed for a fraction of a second as if he's trying to digest what I've just told him and then he quirks an eyebrow at me and seems to be carefully studying how I'm going to respond. "Is there any reason why you'd want to?"

That is most certainly not the response I expected from him; I know what he's getting at and I feel a sigh escape my lips as I look over at him. "Have you ever smoked?"

Nick laughs so that all the lines on his face crinkle up and for some reason it occurs to me that despite all the adversity in his life, he laughs a lot. "So you're comparing Grissom to cigarettes." I hate it when he seems to know what I'm thinking.

"Ok, so it's not the perfect analogy, but you get the general idea." My smile fades as I feel my brows furrow. "He's just not good for me...rather my fixation on him isn't good for me."

"You are right about that. Just think of all the hot dates you missed out on since I've known you; I think half the guys I've tried to set you up with are married now." He looks far too amused, but I don't doubt that what he's telling me is the truth.

"I've never been a fan of blind dates, Nick." The reality is that I'm not a big fan of anything I can't predict well in advance. There are exceptions of course and once in a while I take the plunge and see what's out there. The problem is that since I've come to Vegas, that plunge tends to come up with guys like Hank Pedigrew who seem really nice initially, but then when you've been with them for a while you realized that their whole life is one big lie after another. I just don't know if I'm willing to take a risk on a date I know absolutely nothing about.

"One of these days Greg might just wear you down." Ok, now I know he's playing with me with that grin of his.

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. "Greg isn't interested in me, at least anymore."

Nick's drawl seems to be just a bit thicker than normal as he tries to keep his smile below a hundred watts. "You don't seem to be too disappointed about that."

I hate it that he can make me smile like an idiot sometimes. "He's my friend and I like it that way." Seriously, while I really _do_ like Greg Sanders as a person, I could never date him. On so many levels we are just far too different and besides, I feel more of a weird sort of maternal pride for the CSI that he's become that would short circuit any potential romantic feelings I might muster up.

"Friend, huh?" There is something about the inflection in Nick's voice that makes me wonder for just a second if he's wondering what I'd think if he asked me out. But I really can't allow myself to think like that; look what years of thinking about Grissom like that has led to. No. If Nick is interested, which I'm sure he can't possibly be he needs to make the move.

"Yes. Friend." There is something about the way he's looking at me that makes me feel uneasy as if _he_ wants _me_ to reassure _him_ that I'm really _not_ interested in Greg. "Greg's a good friend, but I just don't look at him like that."

I could swear that there's a hint of disappointment behind Nick's eyes just then. And just as quickly as I see it, it's gone; replaced with a smile. "Does Greg know that?" Flirty grin and he's back to the same Nick that I've been flirting with for six years.

I can't believe I just giggled. "Yes, he _does_ know that. I think I've made it pretty clear over the years that I'm not interested in him." Somewhere in the middle of this conversation, I've stopped paying very close attention to the piece of evidence that I'm supposed to be examining and for once I'm glad that Grissom is out of the lab and I'm stuck here.

"So you won't go on a blind date. You're not interested in Greg. You've decided that you're over Grissom, or at least you're moving on." Nick has a furrowed brow in spite of the amused expression on his face. "So that doesn't really leave you with too many options for potential dates now does it?"

"You forgot the internet." Now let me just say for the record, I would never, I repeat never, go on a date with someone that I've met over the internet. Statistically, over thirty percent of people who place ads on dating websites are actually married. I've been used once by someone who wanted to cheat on their significant other; I don't need another Hank.

Nick looks worried and he leans forward, speaking in a slightly anxious tone. "You would date over the internet?"

I managed to keep a straight face for all of about five seconds before I crack a smile. "No, I would never get a date over the internet, Nick. C'mon, how long have I worked this job?" He looks visibly relieved.

"Well I just wanted to make sure, you can never be too careful." He's grinning at me again and I think I realize that I'd be fortunate if I could find someone like Nick to fall in love with me someday.

Ok, trying to keep my thoughts back on track, I try and focus my attention back on the evidence at hand, but after a few minutes a thought occurs to me and I glance up at Nick who seems to be studying that belt the way I was looking at that shoe earlier. "Hey, Nick?"

He glances up and quirks an eyebrow at me. "Yeah?"

I don't think I remember the last time Nick went on a date that I'd heard about; either he's keeping it quiet, or he just hasn't been dating anyone and I decide that I need to do a little fishing. "Why are you so interested in my love life anyway?"


	11. Chapter 11

Nick had what I would classify as a slightly panicked expression on his face; not the suave cool look that I was accustomed to and I wondered if my question had flustered him. "Why wouldn't I be interested in your love life?" Nick's expression now resembled more of a deer-caught-in-the-headlights; clearly I'd hit a nerve, at least I think I did. "I mean, you're my friend and I want you to be happy...I know you want to be with someone who really cares about you."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and I wondered if I'd misread what I'd taken for 'signals' coming from Nick. "I do." I reminded myself that we were supposed to be processing evidence, not circling each other like a pack of wolves looking for a weak spot to exploit. I forced a smile onto my face and cleared my throat. "It's nice that you're so concerned."

Nick cleared his voice; his expression had relaxed somewhat. "I could set you up on a blind date." After I'd shot him a withering glance, he quirked an eyebrow at me and pursed his lips together. "Ok, so no blind date, no Greg, no Grissom, and no internet." Now his brow was furrowed. "What exactly are you looking for in a guy, Sar? Did you think that maybe you haven't really found someone because you don't know what you want?"

If he hadn't had the kindest eyes just then, I might have told him off. Instead, I let out a sigh and shrugged my shoulders. "You're right, maybe I _don't_ know what I'm looking for...but I _do_ know some things that I _don't_ want." My thoughts immediately went to Hank and every guy like him who didn't get that women don't want to be used to cheat on someone else.

Nick leaned back in his chair and looked at me expectantly. "Ok." He obviously expected me to give him a list.

I'm fairly certain that I rolled my eyes at him before gesturing to what was in front of us. "We have evidence to process."

"It's not going anywhere." I could have sworn that he smirked at me.

I know that look well and I know that Nick isn't going to let go of this and so I roll my eyes at him again. "Fine." I hate it that he can make me smile when I'm trying not to and as I glance up he's laughing with his eyes even though he's trying to keep a straight face. As I lean back in my chair and realize that I don't know anyone else that can compel me to tell them things the way that Nick does and I wonder if I'll ever be lucky enough to fall in love with someone like him.

"Start talking." Nick smirks again. "I'll even get back to processing if you talk." It is infuriating how that even makes sense; how I'm even agreeing to this, but I can't help myself.

"Well, for starters, they need to be single." I can feel my lips curling up into a smirk of my own as Nick starts to work on what's before him.

"That's a given; if I'd known that Hank was seeing someone when you went out with him, I would have kicked his ass for you." Nick was completely serious; although I'm sure what he means by kicking Hank's ass is more of one of those 'don't you dare mess with my friend, or I'll make you regret the day you were born' chats than an actual ass kicking, although the thought is nice.

I can't help smiling at the image that puts in my mind. "And, I suppose if they weren't emotionally unavailable that would be helpful."

"Grissom doesn't know what he's missing." Nick is clearly smiling as he's studying the belt in front of him. I appreciate his support; I know he's trying to make me feel better and in an odd sort of way it is. I think I'm always going to feel something for Grissom; I just know that things between us are never going to happen and I need to make friends with that fact.

I think I'd better turn my attention back to the evidence because if Grissom comes back to check on the progress we've made he's going to wonder if we've found anything. Besides, I just think more clearly when I'm working and it'll keep me from having to look at Nick. "I don't know what I want, Nick. Why can't I just find some nice normal guy who knows how to treat women with respect who I'm actually attracted to?"

"Good thing you clarified that; I wouldn't want you to end up with someone like Hodges." I don't even have to look up to know that he's teasing me.

"So who _would_ you like me to end up with?" I'm certain that Nick has an opinion about it and since I haven't been doing too well for myself in picking out men, maybe I should listen to what he has to say.

"Oh, no. I'm not gonna go there." Nick is shaking his head and laughing all at once in what I've come to know as his knee jerk defense mechanism. "If I throw an _actual_ name out there, you're gonna come up with all the reasons _why_ it won't work and what's wrong with them. Na uh. You over analyze too much if you have too much information." Clearly Nick has given this some thought.

My interest is piqued because I know he's got someone in mind and if there is one thing that I can do better than Nick it's be stubborn. "Ok, so generalize then. And for the record, I didn't ask you to tell me _who_ you could see me with."

Nick has one of those grins he's trying to swallow as he's chuckling at me. "Oh, _yes_ you _did_, Sara." His eyes are dancing with amusement again and I'm doing my best to keep from blushing because deep down I know he's right.

No time like the present to turn it back on him. "Well you've obviously thought about this quite a bit." His expression falters ever so slightly and I can feel the corners of my mouth twitching upwards in potential victory as I continue. "I would have thought that a guy with your social reputation would have better things to do with your time than to think about what kind of guy _I_ should be with."

Nick sinks just a fraction in his seat and I can tell that he's feeling like he's in the crosshairs for just a second. I don't really expect him to look at me quite the way he's looking at me right now. "First of all, my 'social reputation' as you put it, is pretty overblown. Secondly, I _have_ given some thought to the kind of guy you deserve to be with because I haven't liked any of the guys that I've seen you with." He lets out a long breath and continues. "Sara, I wish you could see yourself the way other people do...you wouldn't be selling yourself so short and setting for guys that aren't even in your league."

Is that a fluttering in the pit of my stomach or just my coffee talking back? I'm not really sure what to say, and thankfully, I don't have to say anything because Nick keeps talking.

"If I described the kind of guy you deserve, I'm sure you would try and talk yourself out of it, and if I successfully set you up on a date with a guy like that; which you wouldn't let me do in the first place, how would he know that he wasn't just a rebound for Grissom?" Nick looks almost pained as he talks and part of me wonders if he isn't expressing his own doubts and insecurities. If I was right about the signals I felt like he was sending me, whether consciously or unconsciously, wouldn't he want some sort of reassurance that I wasn't just using him to get over Grissom?

"I guess I don't know." I really _don't_ know and Nick has a point, but I hadn't really thought about living post-Grissom until just recently. Could it be that I need some time to figure out who I am before I can truly recognize what I need in a man and what I need from a real relationship?

"See as long as you have to think about whether you're over Grissom, you're still trying to move on." Nick turns his attention back to the belt he's been processing and in that simple conclusion I find that I'm irritated as hell.

"Well at least I _am_ trying; I'm not stuck, I'm moving in a direction and it's _away_ from him, so don't tell me that I'm not in a place to hear about the kind of man I should be with, Nick." For some reason I'm suddenly furious at him. It's all becoming very clear to me now and I'm more hurt than anything as I glare at him. "At least I _know_ he's never going to do anything about his feelings for me, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say about you."

If there was ever a time I wanted to take my words back, it was just then. The shock on Nick's face was measurable; I'm sure he never thought that I would figure it out. The fact that I honed in on how I thought he was feeling about me before he could tell me himself pissed me off. I could not and would not go down this road again. If Nick Stokes couldn't be man enough to go after me, well then, to hell with him.

As for me, all I wanted to do at that moment was to shrivel up and hide; so I did the next best thing and made a beeline for the ladies room before Nick could say a word in response.


	12. Chapter 12

Right now I'm wondering when I turned into an emotionally unstable, shallow minded bubble head and when I lost sight of objectivity and rational thought. To put it mildly, I've put myself in an incredibly awkward situation with Nick. I basically demanded that he put all of his cards out on the table without really knowing if he was even playing the game. There is no good way to gracefully extract myself from this situation, but at the same time I'm till incredibly pissed at him for hinting around that he _might_ be interested without just coming out and telling me. I have spent far too much time doing that very thing with Grissom and regardless of whether I'm truly over Grissom, if Nick has feelings for me he'd better damn well tell me.

I've never really noticed just how repetitive the pattern of the tiling in the bathroom is and as I find myself trying to estimate the square footage and what percentage of beige to teal blue there is I come to the realization that maybe I'm being too hard on Nick. It is fair for him to wonder if he did want to pursue me if it was simply because I needed a distraction from Grissom or if it was because I was truly interested. I don't think even I know that answer to that question, but I really don't know how to walk back in there and talk to him.

This is completely ridiculous. At some point in time I know that I need to haul my ass out of the ladies room and go back into the layout room to finish processing evidence with Nick; my friend Nick that I blew up at because I wanted him to wear his heart on his sleeve so that I could avoid getting hurt. I think that I've probably really hurt him and if he _had_ feelings for me, he probably hates me now. Something about that hurts far more than if I had just misread his 'signals' and assumed that he was the one he was talking about. Well, was he really talking about anyone at all, or was he talking in generalities? Hell, I think I've completely confused myself.

The door opening almost nearly shoots me out of my skin and I make an attempt to act calm and breathe normally as Catherine walks in. "Hey, Cath." I'm trying to remember what the hell part of the case she was working on so I don't have to talk about why I've been standing in front of the sink for the better part of the last half hour.

"Sara." There is something skeptical in her expression and I hate it that she seems to be able to hone in when something is just a little off. "You ok?"

"Yeah. Fine. Why?" I really have no intention of answering that question; I don't need to tell her of all people about the conversation I just had with Nick, or even better what the conversation was about. She knows both Nick and Grissom better than most people and in some respects that makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't really think of Catherine as a confidant; a coworker, yes; a friend sometimes, but I don't know that she wouldn't tell Grissom or Nick what I might say and so I find that most of the time when talk turns to anything personal I just keep my mouth shut.

She quirks an eyebrow at me and I know that she knows more than I want her to. "Uh, Nick mentioned that you weren't feeling well." Obviously, she came in here looking for me and now that I've just told her that I'm fine and Nick's told her something different, she has the wheels in her mind churning to see what's amiss.

"I'm fine now." I'm not really sure if she believes me, but at least Nick didn't tell her what really happened. That's one thing that I know about him that I can count on; he would never purposely embarrass someone.

"_Ok_." Clearly her tone implies that she doesn't really believe me, but I'm not going to cave to the raised eyebrow of that patented mother look of hers.

My smile is forced and I really don't care if Catherine can tell; I have no choice right now other than to turn and walk out the door and head back to the layout room to face Nick. "I need to get back to the evidence." I'm hoping I can just leave it at that.

No such luck. "If you ever need to talk, Sara..." Her words trail off and with that a seed of doubt is placed in my mind about what she knows.

I simply plaster on a smile, glance over my shoulder and head out the door into the hallway trying to shake off this nagging feeling that Catherine is the least of my worries. All I have to do is walk right back down the hallway and face Nick.

I've almost worked up the courage to turn the corner into the layout room to try and clear the air a little with Nick when I realize that he's not even in the room. A little frustrated I plopped back down in my chair and pick up where I left off. For all I know, Nick has decided that he's going to take the rest of the evening off and I'm going to be stuck here all by myself processing pieces of evidence.

Of course, before I can really wind myself up and get the pity party into full swing, Nick comes sauntering back into the room, his brows arching up in surprise and a quizzical expression shooting my way. He clears his throat as he sits down. "I found traces of what looks like that pottery on the belt. Hodges is checking it out."

"Oh. Good." My vocabulary has been reduced to one word sentences and I am really wishing that I could turn back time and shove my words back down my throat.

Nick doesn't say a word and for some reason that just makes me mad and hurt all at once and then I realize again that he's probably feeling that way too and after my last outburst he's probably not sure if he wants to wade back into the water. It isn't until I let out an audible sigh that Nick looks up with a conflicted expression on his face.

I am a complete idiot and even though it's difficult, I really think I need to be the one to say something here; otherwise it's going to get even more awkward and our friendship is going to be ruined. I'm not sure if it looks like one, but I'm trying to smile at him as I force the words out. "I guess I put my foot in my mouth."

Nick shrugs and arches one eyebrow my direction, but still doesn't say a word.

Oh, I hate him for making this difficult for me; no, in reality I really hate myself for what I've done. "I made an assumption that I shouldn't have...I didn't mean...I..." The words just won't come and I close my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. When I open them again, Nick is looking straight at me and there is the faintest of smiles trying to curl the edges of his mouth up into a smile. "I'm sorry. I had no right to say something like that to you."

Nick shakes his head and the smile on his face is real now. "I'm sorry too, Sara. I wasn't really thinking about where you were coming from." There is no admission of his feelings towards me in that statement, but at least I think we're going to be ok and that my outburst hasn't completely damaged our friendship.

"Me either." There is a part of me that wants Nick to interested in me, but there is another part of me that really isn't sure that I'm quite ready; I need to know more about who I am and if the thing in me that wants to fall for a guy like Nick is part of the real Sara or if it really would be a rebound reaction to trying to get over Grissom. Nick deserves better than that and I owe it to myself to figure that out.

Nick looks visibly more relaxed as he turns his attention back to work, although there is the faintest hint of pink in his cheeks that makes me wonder what he has on his mind. The mystery is removed a few moments later when he glances up at me with a soft smile. "Sara, for the record...I'm the guy that I think you should end up with. I just thought you should know."

I knew that, I really did, but my head is spinning with uncertainty and I'm not really sure what to do with the information now that I have it.


	13. Chapter 13

If I expected an epiphany when Nick made his confession to me, I certainly didn't get it. I was left with the thought repeating over and over in my mind that Nick Stokes was actually interested in me, and moreover, he'd actually told me. After years of waiting for Grissom to tell me what I already knew and having it never happen, I wasn't really sure what to do with someone that I really did care about revealing to me that their feelings went deeper than the friendship we'd shared for years. I think that the fact that I hadn't said anything after Nick spoke both confused him and concerned him. He was clearly focused on the case, wanting to get through the mound of evidence that we had before us, and yet I could tell that he had a few things on his mind that I just didn't know how to respond to.

I really hoped that he didn't want to go out for a talk after shift; I needed time to process what was going on; I needed to figure out what I wanted and I was pretty sure that until the shock wore off, I wasn't going to be able to do that. Of course denial is a pretty comforting thing too, and if it's where you've been living for any length of time, it's much easier to just stay there than to walk into the future, into the unknown.

The rest of the shift was a blur, but we did manage to process the rest of the evidence between us and on almost every article of clothing the second victim was wearing was that same reddish dust that we suspected was small fragments of Raku pottery. The rest of the team was still running down leads and so there really was nothing more to do until Trace had made a positive identification of the dust as well as that mystery gunk we'd left for testing.

I felt a bit awkward standing there in the locker room with Nick after shift trying to gather my things to head home; it wasn't that I didn't find him attractive; I did, believe me I did. It's just that for so long I'd had an idea in my mind of what the perfect man for me was and I'd ended up being incredibly disappointed, and here I was being presented with someone who was so different in some ways and so similar in others that I felt as if a flurry of butterflies had taken up residence in my stomach as I thought about what to do about this.

I snorted out a laugh at that thought and I found myself trying to hold back a smirk as Nick raised a single brow at me and shut his locker. "You feel like sharing what's so funny?"

I know Nick and I know that the fact that I hadn't laid my cards out about how I was feeling about him was probably making him at least a little nervous, but I really didn't want to explain to him what had made me laugh; the irony that here I was unsure of what to do about Nick perhaps the way that Grissom was unsure of what to do about me probably wouldn't have quite the same irony to it for Nick as it did for me.

"Uh, no." I smiled in spite of myself and found my cheeks burning a little as I noticed just how deep of a shade of brown Nick's eyes were and how different they were from the cerulean blue of Grissom's. I think that I could get lost in his eyes if I let myself.

_If_ I let myself.

This really is a choice at some level. I can either stand here and keep him at arms length or I can take a chance and just see where it goes. I was willing to do that with Grissom, but he just wasn't willing to do that with me. Nick's willing, I _want_ to be willing, but I have to admit that I'm scared; truly scared of being disappointed, of being taken advantage of, of being abandoned. I've had so many people come in and out of my life that I'm afraid if Nick gets too close, if he really gets to know all about me, that he couldn't possibly love me. Maybe, just maybe, that's why I found it so easy to wait for Grissom when I knew he'd never do anything about us.

I'm not really sure where the courage comes from, but the words are out of my mouth before my head can constrain them. "Do you want to grab breakfast?" I know it's a sure bet that he'll say yes; Nick is always ready to eat, and the truth is, I think maybe I'm ready to talk to him, to discuss if you will what exactly he meant by what he said.

"Yeah, I could eat." Nick's grin betrays him as it spreads across his face and there go those butterflies again as he reaches over and tucks my hair back behind my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek before he pulls them away. How the hell he can just do that with no pretense astounds me and I swear my heart is beating furiously inside my chest.

"Meet you at the diner?" I hope that my voice sounds calmer than I feel. This is big; if we cross over from friendship to something else we can't ever go back and my desire to see what could happen between us is actually winning out over the fear and uncertainty that I'm feeling.

"We could do that." Nick's grin has gotten even bigger and I wish I could stop my lips from curving up into a smile as I just stare back at him. He chuckles softly as he just stands there and watches me look at him. "Or we could just stand here."

"Uh, no." Am I blushing? What the hell is going on with me? How in the world is Nick having this effect on me? A few simple words and suddenly everything he does seems to fluster me. "The diner." Somehow I've gotten back in control of my face and once I've grabbed my things, and shut my locker I spin on my heels to head towards the door.

Nick is right there, falling in step next to me as we exit the building. I can't bring myself to look over at him because I know he's smiling and to be quite honest, it's driving me a little crazy. Nick's my friend, I've been out to eat breakfast with him more times than I can even remember and yet for some reason, this is different. I feel like an idiot because I'm fumbling with my keys and I have to remind myself again that this is Nick.

"Let me help you with that." He sounds so confident as he takes the keys from my hand and unlocks my car door. How in the hell can he not be nervous? Ok, so maybe because he knows exactly how he feels, and the way I'm acting, he's probably sure that there's a good chance that I'm feeling the same way.

But am I? Do I have romantic feelings for Nick? "Uh, thanks." I'm looking forward to the solitude of my car for those few blocks to the diner so that I can collect my thoughts and figure out exactly what I'm going to say to him that isn't complete gibberish. I'm almost there too, the door is open, I'm smiling as he hands me back the keys, and before I can duck into the car, it happens.

"See you at the diner then." The smile on Nick's face is unlike any I've ever seen there before and the next thing I know his lips are softly pressing against mine, and his fingers are brushing against my cheek in the most tender gesture. I swear that the myriad of butterflies in my stomach are swirling around in an uncontrolled flurry and I can't help but kiss him back.

Just as quickly as he kisses me, he pulls away, smiling broadly and winking at me and all I can do is stand there with my mouth slightly agape and watch as he walks with a confident swagger to his own vehicle.


	14. Chapter 14

All I can think about is that kiss and I swear it takes me a full minute to realize that Nick has already driven off. I'm still blushing a little as I get in my car to follow him to the diner and I'm wondering if he'll kiss me again, or what he would do if I just walked up and kissed him. I cannot believe that a simple kiss from him has turned my analytical brain into complete mush. As I pull into the diner's parking lot and see Nick standing next to his vehicle with a cocky grin plastered on his face the thought occurs to me that he's standing there waiting for me and a flutter rushes through my heart. I don't really know where all of this sudden rush of feeling is coming from; sure I've always found Nick attractive, but maybe deep down even while I was consumed with my feelings for Grissom there was a part of me that had feelings for Nick too and now that I've determined to get past Grissom, those feelings for Nick have just burst into life.

His grin gets even bigger as I step out of my car and walk towards him. "I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to go back and pick you up." There is so much in that look and I know that he knows that his kiss has affected me in a way that I never completely expected.

"Oh, shut up." I'm sure that the smirk on my face belies my tone and if there were any doubt at all in Nick's mind, I'm pretty sure I completely remove it as I step towards him, wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips against his. I can feel Nick smiling against my kiss and as his hands find their way to my waist I feel a flipping sensation in the pit of my stomach and I decide that this feeling is something that I intend to catalogue in my mind. It takes my mind a few moments to process that we're standing in the middle of a parking lot where anyone could see us; people we both know from the lab and LVPD and it takes another few moments for that information to sink in deep enough for me to pull away from Nick.

He looks entirely too pleased. "You can shut me up anytime." You know, I'm not sure how I never noticed before how when Nick smiles, his entire face crinkles up into these laugh lines and I realize that he must have grown up in such a happy home for it to be reflected in his features like that.

"Let's just eat." I can't help but grin back at him, but I don't know if it's doubt or disbelief that makes me wonder how he could look at me like that knowing what he knows about my family. I'm not sure _I_ would look at me like that and I know far more about my family than either he or Grissom knows. And then there's a pang about Grissom again that I've become so familiar with over the years. Part of me wonders if the reason why he could never risk being with me was because of my family; surely he knew more about my background than he let on when I told him about it. I'm not stupid; Grissom does his homework and if he's going to ask you to move across the country to become a CSI on his team, he's found out more about you than you probably even want to know. Suddenly I'm so disappointed; Grissom didn't want to be with me because of the hell that someone else inflicted on my life, but just as suddenly, I feel a glimmer of hope because I realize that Nick wants to be with me in spite of it.

There is something comforting in the familiarity of that diner as we walk in and despite my nervousness about this change in my relationship with Nick, being in that place helps to put me at ease. At least until I spot Warrick, Catherine, Grissom, and Greg gathered around a table in the large corner booth. Panic shoots through me as I wonder if they saw Nick and I making out in the parking lot. Wow, _Nick and I making out_, that thought just makes me smile and I realize that if they all saw us, there isn't anything I can do about it now. I'm not sure why I feel a rush of relief as I realize that Nick's rig is parked in such a way to nicely block any view of us that they might have gotten; it's not that I'm ashamed of Nick, I just need some time to adjust to this whole idea of us and I'm really not sure I want the rest of the team weighing in on my personal life until I know for sure what's really going on here.

It's Greg that spots us first and he's waving us over as he urges the others to scoot around to make room for us. Unfortunately, they scoot inward, leaving Nick and I on opposite sides of the booth, not how I would have pictured a first sort of date, but for now it'll have to do. We _did_ come to the diner, it's not like we could have expected complete privacy in the first place.

"I was just going to call you two." Greg is grinning at me as he offers me a menu. I can't help but smirk at him; I've looked at the menu here exactly one time, and since I know they only have one vegetarian omelet, I've never ordered anything else. Besides, Audrey the waitress knows all of us and I'm pretty sure that she's already put our orders in which is probably why no one has any coffee yet.

"Well, we must have read your mind then, Greggo." Nick is grinning like he's got a big fat secret he wants to tell the whole world, and I glance at him for a long moment hoping he can read my mind that I don't want him blabbing it out to the rest of the table. He winks at me and I know that I have nothing to worry about. "Isn't that right, Sar?"

"Definitely." My smile is as subdued as I can make it, I don't want to look like I've got a secret too because I know the prying eyes around the table will just pick up on it, especially Catherine. "For instance right now I'm sure that Greg is wondering why none of us have even looked at the menu." I know it's true because ever since I declined the menu he offered me, he's been looking around the table at everyone else wondering why they haven't even touched a menu.

Greg looks at me like he's not quite sure if I actually _can_ read his mind. "You scare me sometimes."

"She has that affect on a lot of people." Warrick looks thoroughly amused, but I catch him shooting Nick a meaningful glance and I wonder just how long Nick Stokes has been interested in me.

"Beauty can be intimidating." Grissom just rattles that off as if there is no meaning behind it, but I know and everyone else around the table knows that it goes far deeper than that. Could it be that _I_ intimidate Grissom, that he could be afraid that _I_ could reject him? How in the world could he even think that? On more than one occasion, I've practically thrown myself at him. What the hell kind of risk is that? Could it be that Grissom doubts himself even more than I doubt myself? It's a revealing thought.

"Yeah, Catherine intimidates me all the time." Nick does his best to look serious, but he comes out with laughter instead and the rest of the table follows suit. I think he knows that Grissom's statement made me a bit uncomfortable and I appreciate him trying to deflect the attention away from me.

"It's one of my best assets, Nicky." Catherine has this slightly wicked smile and it makes me laugh. Catherine and I may not always get along, but she has found a way to use her beauty as a tool to gain information as a CSI and I have a certain amount of respect for that.

Of course, Greg brings it right back as he sizes up Nick. "Don't you think Sara's beautiful too?" Only Greg would go there. I have really enjoyed watching him grow as a CSI, but I have to say he has a long way to go on picking up on the subtle dynamics of this group.

Suddenly, all of the attention is on Nick wondering just how he's going to work his way out of this one. I'm wondering too, because I don't want him to tell anyone about what's transpired between us until we've had a chance to talk about it by ourselves.

Nick just grins easily at me and doesn't even look over at Greg as he answers the question. "No, Greg, I don't think Sara's beautiful." Shock I think was what was reflected on my face, especially in light of the way that man had kissed me and I think Warrick mumbled something about Nick being an idiot in the fraction of a second before he continued and I was filled with relief. "I think Sara's gorgeous."


	15. Chapter 15

The words were out of my mouth before I even considered their implication. "Do you want to come back to my place for a while?"

The grin on Nick's face grew as we stood between our vehicles in the parking lot of the diner and he took a step towards me, not even bothering to glance around to make sure that everyone else had actually already left before leaning in to kiss me. And that kiss; there is just something about the way that man can kiss that just short circuits my brain. A good few minutes goes by before I realize my lungs are going to need oxygen if I'm going to keep standing up and so I pull away.

I even sound breathless. "Ok, so you follow me." I don't even dare look Nick in the eye because I'm not sure I won't just keep kissing him right there if I do.

"Right behind you, darlin'." Nick's voice just sounds sexy and I can feel his fingers brushing along my arm as I try and fish my keys out of my purse to unlock my car. After the second try I finally get the door unlocked and after one more lingering kiss I manage to get inside and close the door. How in the hell did I not notice that he was interested in me before now? Ok, yes, I realize that being obsessed with Grissom did affect my ability to recognize things that were right in front of my eyes. Does the fact that I can see them clearly now mean that I'm over Grissom? I'm not really sure, but I don't care. I'm moving on, and I think I'm doing a pretty damn good job of it.

Most of my neighbors are early risers, gone and off to work before I'm usually home, and for this I'm extremely thankful because Nick and I seemed to pick right up on that kiss as soon as we'd both parked our cars. If the sun hadn't been steadily climbing higher, I'm sure I would have been content leaning back against his rig while we made out. But the thing about a dark blue paint job in the desert heat is that it gets hot pretty damn fast. "Ouch."

Nick slowly pulls back with an eyebrow quirked at me and I have to smile as he speaks because his twang is so much more pronounced than normal. "You ok?" It's charming how concerned he looks.

I think I'm nodding as I push at his chest so I can step away from his rig. "It's hot." I'm sure Nick is going to take that statement a number of different ways given the smirk flitting across his face.

"Maybe we should go inside." There is a distinct twinkle of mischief in his eyes and I'm wondering if this is really such a good idea because deep down I know exactly where this is going to lead if one of us doesn't put the brakes on.

"Yeah." That is a damn good idea and I'm wondering why I didn't think of it a lot sooner. Nick is walking in step with me, his hand resting at the small of my back, his thumb lightly brushing back and forth in a way that makes me shiver.

Now, I've lived in my apartment for a long time, and I've never had a problem finding the right key for the front door but for whatever reason I can't seem to recognize it and it occurs to me that the reason is standing a fraction of an inch from me. Finally I get the key in the lock and as I open the door, a wave of nerves hit me.

"Do you want something to drink?" I take a good step away from Nick as I stride into the kitchen and set my purse and keys down on the counter before turning to face him.

"I'll have whatever you're having." Nick is smiling at me as he closes the door and it's causing a flurry of butterflies to rush around in my stomach.

Two bottles of water is all I have in my fridge and as I turn around I find that Nick is right there. I'm not really all that thirsty and from the look in his eye, I'm not so sure he is either and judging by the way he takes both bottles out of my hand and sets them on the counter behind me before leaning in and kissing me again, I'm sure that he's not thirsty.

I've always prided myself on self restraint, being in control of a situation, of taking time to think things through logically and then take the appropriate action. I am exercising none of those things right now. The only thing I can even seem to think about is the taste of Nick's mouth and the feel of his body pressing against mine as I lean back against the counter. I'm a little shocked that I'm not protesting the fact that we haven't really talked about where this thing, whatever it is, is headed. I mean I know that Nick pretty much told me where he was coming from, but I haven't even really given him a clue outside of the way that I've been responding to his kisses, and yet I'm not sure how to articulate what it is that I'm feeling.

Oh, that feeling, this is definitely headed somewhere and as Nick's mouth latches onto the side of my neck one of his hands slides up the front of my shirt. I'm pretty damn certain that now is the time to protest if I'm going to, only I don't want to protest, in fact it takes me a few moments to process that he's not the only one with hands in dangerous territory. This is not like me. At least I don't think it's like me. Well maybe it _is_ like the me who lives in my fantasies, the one with no inhibitions, the one who would be doing exactly what I'm doing right now. The one that would be leading Nick Stokes down the hall and into my bedroom because right now I want him; and I can tell that he sure as hell wants me.

There is something that I found oddly erotic about the fact that by the time we tumbled onto my bed we were both laughing at just how clumsy we both were trying to get there in the first place. I felt some semblance of relief that Nick wasn't suave or smooth about forgetting to kick his shoes off before trying to remove his pants. And the fact that I'd worn a sports bra because all of the others were in the wash became a lesson in frustration as I tried to wrestle the damn thing off. There was absolutely nothing sexy about that. So by the time we tumbled onto my bed mostly undressed save for some very utilitarian looking underwear on both of our parts, I think we were both thinking a little more clearly than we had been for the last couple of hours.

Nick drawled thickly as his fingers trailed up and down my arm. "You sure about this?" His voice was husky and I could tell that if I said no that he was going to have to get a cold shower very soon.

I could have said no, I could have thought about this whole thing rationally and chosen to take things nice and slow. The thing is, I've taken slow for years now and where the hell has it gotten me? I may regret this later, but I don't really care right now. I scoot closer to Nick and whisper. "Yes."

That was all I needed to say to convince Nick.

Much later, I am tired and sore and happier than I think I have been in a very long time. There is a part of me that wonders if this was the right thing, but I really don't want to think about that right now, not when I've got Nick spooned up against me under my comforter. His breath is hitting my neck in soft warm puffs and I can tell from his even breathing and the way his arm is draped across my waist that he's sleeping.

I'm pretty damn close to being asleep too when I hear my phone ring. Now there is no way that I'm getting up to answer it, but I'm counting the rings until the answering machine clicks on so I can close my eyes and go to sleep. I'm assuming it's my landlord or the cable company with a special offer; I certainly don't expect to hear Grissom's voice.

_Sara, it's Grissom. I've been doing some thinking about what you said in my office. I think we should talk._

That brief message is all it took for me to start second guessing my decision.


	16. Chapter 16

My head felt like it was spinning. Here I was in bed with Nick and _now_ Grissom wanted to talk. Why the hell didn't he want to talk a few days ago? What the hell am I supposed to do? I mean, I have wanted Grissom to act on his feelings for me for a long time, but it's not now until I'm with Nick like this that he does. Or at least I'm assuming he does, why else would he call me and actually leave a voicemail on my answering machine at home?

None of this makes sense, least of all Grissom's timing. Oh, shit! Of course! Shit, shit, shit. Grissom must have seen Nick and I making out in the parking lot of the diner. There is no way he didn't see Nick and I if he left after we did and if that's the case I'm almost certain that he suspects that Nick came home with me, or perhaps I went home with Nick because that was no chaste kiss we were sharing. Either way, I think the man is fishing for information and has absolutely no intention of pursuing me no matter what he might say in this chat he wants to have; a chat that he should have wanted to have with me a long time ago. I feel like he really doesn't want me, but he doesn't want anyone else to either. That just reaffirms for me that I made the right choice. And with that thought, I finally drifted off to sleep with Nick's arm securely around my waist.

It's sometime later when I feel the sensation of soft lips pressing against my neck. A strong hand gently squeezing my hip causes me to panic for a moment until I remember where I am and why I'm not alone. A smile spreads across my face at the realization that Nick's body is flush against my back and it is a very, very nice feeling to wake up to. I sound sleepy as I crane my neck a little to try and look at Nick. "You sleep ok?"

"More than ok." Nick is smiling as I turn in his arms. "What about you?" His brow furrows a bit as I let out a sigh. "You ok?" I think maybe he's worried that I'm having regrets about us being here together like this; I mean this did happen at warp speed.

"Just thinking." I smile at him because I really have no regrets about being with him, I just know that sometime soon I'm going to have to have a conversation with Grissom and I really don't know what I'm going to say.

Nick looks at me expectantly, but I can see a hint of trepidation and maybe even fear behind his eyes at the possibility that I'm having second thoughts. Before he can say anything, I lean in and kiss him, just letting myself get caught up in that luscious sensations of bodies pressed together as I try and memorize every nuance of his mouth. To say that I am living in the moment would be an understatement; I think sensory overload would be a far better description.

We break apart quite a while later and Nick is grinning at me like a fool, I can't help but grin right back at him. "I never expected to feel quite like this." The words are out before I can help them and the implication is there even though I'm not sure I can say exactly what's behind them.

"I've been feeling this way for longer than I think I want to care to admit." Nick looked a little embarrassed by his confession and it made me wonder if he'd cared about me so long, why it had taken until now for him to say anything.

My brow furrowed as I regarded him; I wanted to know why? I think I needed that; especially since I'd just been through this with Grissom who _had_ feelings for me and was never going to act on them; well at least until that phone call left some doubt in my mind. "Why didn't you say anything?" I think my tone conveyed the hurt I felt at being loved and not being told; maybe it wasn't fair for me to feel that way, but it was just how I felt, logic and rational thought didn't really figure in to matters of the heart.

Nick looked at me for a long moment, I think that fear and hurt that I felt were reflected back at me in his eyes and I realized that no matter what we said or did now, it was all still a huge risk for both of us. And then I realized that he was opening himself up and giving me his heart without truly knowing if I was over Grissom; he was taking a much bigger risk than I was and here I was demanding to know why he hadn't done it sooner.

Before Nick could say anything, I smiled at him. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have asked you that." I knew the why. Gil Grissom was the reason that no man in the lab, except maybe Greg had bothered to ask me out. There was a sort of unspoken respect for the man that they wouldn't step on his toes to get to me; especially since it seemed I had given my heart to that man, a man that was incapable of accepting it. It wasn't an easy thing for Nick to tell me that he wanted to be with me; I knew that.

"Sara." His voice held hesitation. There was something behind his eyes that needed to be reassured that I wanted _him_ and not just a distraction until my heart was free of Grissom.

"Nicky." I hadn't called him that in a long time, and for some reason right now seemed to be the appropriate time to use it. "When I was a little girl, sometimes I used to catch caterpillars, you know the ones that turn into Monarchs?" He nodded and so I continued. "I would put it in a jar with a few sticks and some leaves hoping that I could watch it turn into a butterfly."

The worry around Nick's eyes seemed to ease a little as I talked. "I used to try and do that too." His drawl sounded a bit thicker. "Problem was they always seemed to die first; never got to even spin a cocoon."

I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, my dad used to tell me that I shouldn't put them in the jar in the first place, they were meant to be free, but I didn't want to listen."

Nick laughed. "Me either."

I found myself absentmindedly tracing patterns on Nick's chest with my fingers, my head resting against his shoulder. "I've felt like that caterpillar for a long time now." I let out a sigh, glancing at Nick to see his expression; smiling because he was studying me with a look that seemed to be full of affection. "I was so focused on Grissom that I was going to die in that jar...when I made the decision that I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't wait for him to change his mind and pursue me, it was like that lid had been taken off the jar. And somewhere in that whole process I feel like I've undergone a metamorphosis of sorts and turned into the butterfly." I felt incredibly vulnerable as I talked; I wasn't really sure how telling him all of this was going to make him react, especially the next part.

I took a deep breath and continued. "After we made love..." I couldn't help but blush at the thought even though I was still there with him in bed, naked as the day we were born, save for the comforter we were snuggled under. "I..." This was harder than I thought it should be, I hope my words didn't sound forced. "I realized how happy I felt, how free I felt being with you." A smirk flitted across my face and I'm sure that it was just a cover for the fear I was feeling inside. "I was laying here in your arms after you'd fallen asleep and the phone rang."

Nick quirked an eyebrow at me curiously.

"I was going to let the machine pick up...and then I heard Grissom's voice on the answering machine." I really hoped that Nick could process that I was here with him in his arms and I wasn't going anywhere. "He told me he wanted to talk about what I'd said to him in his office the other day."

"So he wants to date you." Nick knew me and knew Grissom well enough to know what I was getting at. His voice sounded unsure at that moment and it made me so angry that this little cocoon we'd created over these last several hours had been invaded with uncertainty.

"I don't know...I think so." I looked at Nick a little worried that he was going to bolt from the bed. "But I don't want him, Nick." I smiled at the almost imperceptible relief that flitted across Nick's face. "I don't want to be that butterfly shoved back into a specimen jar and I don't want to be just another insect that he's tacked up for display either."

"I don't want you to either." Nick's smile was soft but genuine as his fingers stroked my hair.

"I've tasted what it feels like to be free, to fly...and I don't ever want to go back." This smile of mine was all for him, no matter what Grissom said, no matter what anyone else said for that matter, I knew exactly where I wanted to be. I had found my home. "I want to be with you."

_**The End**_


End file.
